


Afterglow

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome, Threesome or Moresome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-02
Updated: 2009-01-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: At the moment, it’s a blank canvas





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** **Requested By:** [](http://iria4285.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://iria4285.livejournal.com/)**iria4285**

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Hermione.” Dean gives her a reassuring smile before he turns towards the canvas and begins to arrange it.

“ _Are_ you nervous?” Blaise asks softly, moving his arm around her waist as he steps behind her. “I don’t think so. You’re trembling in excitement, aren’t you?”

“Stop,” she whispers, giving Blaise a look before she glances at Dean. Blaise laughs against her neck before he brushes his lips against her skin. It’s difficult to be annoyed with him when he’s right. She _is_ excited, which confuses her. She’s a private person, so this should terrify her. Not being naked in front of someone, necessarily, but the idea of having something so intimate painted where others might see. Instead, she’s almost aroused. When Dean glances up from his easel and stares at her and Blaise, she changes that thought. There’s no ‘almost’ to it.

When Blaise originally suggested having a naughty portrait painted by a friend of hers, she thought he was crazy. It’s not like she’s going to let him hang it over the fireplace, after all. He’s persuasive, though, and she can’t deny being curious about what sort of painting would be done and what it would be like to pose for such a thing around someone she finds attractive. Now that it’s actually time, Blaise is incredibly frisky, and she’s already turned on before they’ve even got naked. And Dean seems to be trying his best to remain professional, even with Blaise kissing and touching her intimately.

Dean clears his throat but doesn’t look away in embarrassment even when Blaise raises his head. She finds that interesting and wonders if Dean might be willing to play, after all. “I’m ready, whenever you two are,” he says simply. There’s a husky note to his voice that isn’t usually there, and she thinks that maybe he’s as affected by this as they are. He’s an artist, a very good one, but he’s still human. Blaise is beautiful, a fact that even her straight male friends reluctantly agree with, and she’s not horrid, either.

“How do you want us?” Blaise makes the casual question sound unbelievably dirty and erotic all at the same time. It’s a talent that she noticed before they even started dating, one that she envies most of the time.

“It’s your commission,” Dean points out, shifting his weight to his other foot as he keeps sneaking glances at her while conversing with Blaise. It seems that he comes to a conclusion regarding their behavior and seems to relax. He smiles slightly and stares more openly, likely deciding that it’s not unprofessional in this case, which is true. They’re certainly not going to be complaining about it.

“Yes, it is. But you’re the artist. I’m paying you a rather large sum for that artistic flare and knowledge.” Blaise nuzzles her neck, and she can practically feel his smirk. Arrogant prat. She sometimes wonders how on earth she ended up falling in love with him, much less marrying him, but she figures that some questions are probably better off not answered. Especially when she wouldn’t change anything.

At the reply, Dean narrows his eyes and considers them. The apprehension is gone, but now so is the amused playfulness. It looks like he’s thinking, possibly considering different artistic visions, then he nods once, as if making up his mind. She watches him curiously as he walks away from the easel and towards them. “Take off her robe,” he says with a slight edge that makes her shiver.

Blaise tightens his grip on her hip momentarily, and she wonders if he’ll refuse such a direct order. Instead, he reaches around her and unfastens the knot on her robe. Dean looks down at her and watches as Blaise spreads open her robe. The silk fabric glides across her breasts as Blaise tugs it open, and she feels her nipples hardening as Dean continues to stare. Blaise drags his fingers along the curves of her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs briefly before he pushes the robe off her shoulders. As it pools around her feet, she raises her chin and tries not to blush.

Being naked in front of a former classmate, particularly one that she might have indulged in a fantasy or three about, is awkward, but it’s not embarrassing. Blaise helped her work through any insecurities and body issues that she had years ago. Now, she embraces her sexuality in a way she never imagined possibility, and she’s proud of how she looks, curves and all. Dean looks longer than she thinks must be appropriate, but she doesn’t mind. If anything, her nipples tighten even more as she licks her lips.

“Now what, Artist?” Blaise sounds bored, but she can hear the underlying possessive tone in his voice. This is his idea, having their portrait painted in such a way, but she wonders if he regrets the suggestion now. She glances at him and is surprised to see a nerve twitching in his cheek, a familiar expression that usually indicates he’s barely in control. Warmth spreads over her as she realizes that he’s fighting the urge to fuck her right here, right now.

“Your robe. Off.” Dean smirks slightly as he gives Blaise a challenging look before he takes a step back. “Your skin is beautiful, Hermione. Flushed pink with arousal. I want you to sit for me and spread your legs. Let me see how pink and wet you are.”

“Say please,” she murmurs, listening to the sound of fabric rustling behind her as Blaise undresses. She’s aroused, so very aroused, but she’s not going to take orders from anyone. Even though Blaise didn’t refuse a command earlier, it’s not the same because Blaise can maintain control of a situation even while giving in. It isn’t as easy for her to do that, unless it’s with him.

“That’s not how it works, love,” Dean says. “It’s my vision, my ‘artistic flare’, as your husband called it. Do as I say like a good girl.”

“My wife stated a requirement. If you wish to continue this commission, you’ll do as she says,” Blaise says firmly, a tone of coldness indicating his irritation. “She is also a woman, Thomas. Not a little girl.”

For a moment, Hermione wonders if Dean will refuse. He seems confused, obviously not sure what sort of game is being played now, and she resists the urge to pat him on the head and tell him that everything will be alright. The dynamic between her and Blaise is complex, which is one reason they rarely ever allow anyone else to be part of it. And, when they do, it’s never someone who doesn’t know the rules or expectations. This portrait and the apparent game with Dean are impulsive, which is unlike Blaise but intriguing, nonetheless.

“Please,” Dean finally whispers. He looks at her and nods towards the settee behind them. “Sit and let me see, Hermione.”

After glancing at Blaise to make sure that he doesn’t want to stop this now, she walks to it and sits down. She looks at them both as she slowly spreads her legs, fully aware that they’ll now see the evidence of her arousal. When Blaise turns towards her, she stares at his erection and licks her lips.

“Join her, please.” Dean picks up a paint brush and chews on the end as he stares at her and Blaise. “No, keep standing. Towards her more. Your cock by her pretty face. She wants to suck it, you know? She looks so hungry. Maybe a lick or two. I’m trying to find the right vision.”

Blaise groans when she parts her lips and lazily licks the underside of his cock. She licks a second time before she kisses the head. She’s startled when she feels something against her breast. Looking down, she sees that Dean’s using his paintbrush to trace her nipple. He moves the brush lower until he strokes her with it. She gasps at the sensations and feels Blaise’s hand in her hair as he presses his cock against her lips more insistently.

She starts to suck Blaise, rolling her hips forward towards the brush and, oh!—fingers are inside her now, stretching her and rubbing. Dean moves his wet fingers over her stomach then grips her breasts, squeezing them hard before he licks and sucks. She moans around Blaise’s cock, spreading her legs wider when Dean moves his fingers back into her and begins fucking her with them.

When he suddenly moves back, she whimpers. Blaise pulls his cock out of her mouth and shoves her onto the settee before he moves between her legs. He thrusts into her hard, making her cry out as he begins to fuck her fast and deep. He’s lost control, and it’s beautiful to watch. He’d holding her tight, bruising her skin as he curses and drives her wild with his filthy words.

She feels wet fingers against her cheek, her hair pulled back from her face. She sees dark hands on Blaise’s shoulder, hears a low voice urging him to fuck her harder, to make her scream, and she looks up to see Dean watching them while one hand strokes his own erection. She moves her hand from Blaise’s shoulder, reaching for Dean, touching his hot skin as he keeps staring, keeps watching. Blaise bites her neck hard, making her gasp before she comes, tightening around him and shaking as her orgasm hits.

Dean arches into her hand, spilling himself onto her fingers as Blaise moves faster and talks more. She drops her hand as Dean steps away, a gleam in his eyes that she doesn’t recognize. Blaise demands her attention, growling at her and claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss as he keeps fucking her. She forgets about Dean, about blank canvas, about everything except Blaise as she strokes his back and grips his arse and holds him while he comes. After he stops shuddering, he rests on top of her, sweaty and sated, and she can’t help smiling as she kisses his shoulder and face.

“Like that,” Dean murmurs quietly, barely audible above the sound of his pencil against the canvas as he sketches. She looks up at Blaise and touches his face, tracing his full lips with her thumb. “Beautiful. It’s even better than I expected. Don’t move. Either of you. Stay like that. Perfect.”

Blaise smirks slightly, which makes her smile. She has to agree. Perfect.

End


End file.
